


Lost in a Blind Reality

by MsMachine



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon? what Canon, Drama & Romance, F/F, forget about most things that jk wrote for obvius reasons, it deals with ptsd, other characters too but mostly just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMachine/pseuds/MsMachine
Summary: Yet the oddest request was the third: no wands.“Why’s that?” Hermione asked, pressing her hand against her forehead. Trying her best to control her tongue between her teeth to not curse the old woman.“Protection. Yours mostly.”"But what if I brought a muggle weapon?" That last sentence was supposed to stick on her mind only, but Bellatrix's left eyebrow rose and she smirked.“I’m pretty good with guns too, don’t try me.” Hermione shivered, she had no doubt about the older witch skills.Or how Bellatrix's life eventually intertwined with Hermione's. An odyssey.





	Lost in a Blind Reality

There was something else that Hermione Granger received from Hogwart's headmaster before his death: a duty. Something that, not even in her reveries, had occurred to her. Even now, whilst sitting between Harry and Ron at the Weasley's household after the departure of the newly appointed Ministry of Magic, Hermione stared beyond the children's storybook in her hands. Because, unlike the other people in the house, she knew more than she would rather about the real meaning behind these three objects.  
Ignoring the chatter of the boys, Hermione fished on her mind how exactly her acquaintance about the objects send beyond the grave from Dumbledore himself had begun.  
After Harry had left the Gryffindor's communal hall, for another session of Occlumency with professor Snape, Hermione followed the opposite path – with the excuse to loan some books before the library closed. Not even the sarcastic remark from Ron became audible with the haste of her feet, whilst trying to remain unnoticed – something almost impractical, in view of the countless painting which adorned the school's walls, yet at the moment seemed to deposited their attention somewhere else. It was as if she was wearing Harry's invisible cloak. Hermione also noticed the absence of some residents from the frames whilst she climbed the second flight of stairs in the direction of the headmaster's office.  
And he was the reason why Hermione walked furtively through the night at Hogwarts hallways: an unusual invitation. Asking for her presence in his office. And that she would come alone. The odd request was for her discretion and the time of the appointment. It was clear that whatever the professor wanted to share with her, must stay only between them.  
And it was with that thought Hermione whispered the secret word – lemon drop – and knocked lightly on the door. There, sitting on his chair, professor Dumbledore deviated his attention from the outside, focusing his half-moon glasses on Hermione, inviting her to take a sit. "May I offer you some tea, Miss Granger?"   
"No, professor, thank you."  
Nodding his head, the wizard put his elbows upon the desk, interlacing his fingers and went quiet for a moment before starting talking again. Hermione took noticed that the residents of the portraits were also not present. Straightening herself on the chair, she faced the professor back, now with something beyond curiosity.  
"You must be wondering why had I called you here tonight, miss Granger, however, I must ask for you to listen to me first and then I shall be open to questions. Deal?"  
Hermione didn't exactly have another choice unless to accept the proposal, the curiosity was eating her inside. She nodded.  
"Very well." The professor smiled. "Before we got ahead, I need to tell you a brief story, so that you might have in mind at the question I will ask you later. Please, I must ask you to listen carefully and without judgment, after all, fear is capable to petrify even the bravest of us, when our hearts are put at risk."  
Hermione's frowned brow was a sign for Dumbledore to recite a tale that would haunt Hermione's life to its end.  
"It is known that first-born children are bound to honor the family name way more pragmatically then their siblings, and in the wizarding world that remains the same. However, what separates those families traditions… is the blood. I'm not here to make an ideological speech, miss Granger, yet there are certain pureblood families whose traditions remains, just as in non-wizard families. The reason why must I tell you this, it is for one of these old traditions are based on the revelation of a prophecy regarding the oldest child from a pureblood family. Yes, Miss Granger," Dumbledore endorsed it, after Hermione's startling reaction. "all of us are born interlaced within a prophecy into our lives, just as Roman mythology exemplifies through the Parcae whose needles weave our destiny. But what is destiny, Miss Granger? If nothing more than pre-determined actions aimed for a purpose?"   
Hermione shifted on her seat, rather uncomfortable with the course of the talk.  
"The Ministry has defined to be a crime the public knowledge of the prophecies, reason why they have it under their control. However, that does not retrains the influence of some pureblood families to have access to them. And now our story begins." Dumbledore adjusted his glasses e glanced to the starry night before proceeding: "The reason why I called you tonight, Miss Granger, is to ask for your collaboration in the alteration of one of those prophecies."  
Perhaps that was the first time Hermione had ever noticed the alteration in the tone of the professor's voice, there was something more between the lines that Hermione haven't yet deciphered.  
"I wonder, Miss Granger, if you still question the reason why I haven't delated Sirius Black a few summers ago or even ignored the subtle signs around the belated professor Quirrell."  
Hermione nodded, there were things – obviously – about Dumbledore's knowledge which still impress her, however, there were still traces of doubts over that. Just as how exactly had the professor knew where to find them after every trouble throughout their scholar years. Or yet, why allow that Harry and her to use the time turner to help Sirius' escape?  
"-Because, Miss Granger," as if reading her mind, Dumbledore proceed, "the Order of the Phoenix has the most valuable piece against Voldemort."  
Hermione frowned, still not comprehend the connection between the previous conversation with this new detail. The smile on the professor's face only made her curiosity grow. "What do you mean with that, sir?"  
"I'm certain you might have noticed my recent absence at the castle due to certain… discoveries. I called you here tonight for your help, Miss Granger. See, years ago, a student had sat right where you are and asked me for my help. Back in those days, there weren't much I could do to assist that child, and I must admit that to be one of my biggest regrets. One of the so many other failures I've done as headmaster of this school. Yet today, I see there is still something that might be changed towards that student in particular."  
Dumbledore opened a drawer and picked up a small bundle made of cloth.  
"Miss Granger, the reason for me to no have taken action back then is something that still haunts me, however, it is the reason for our small victories in the fight against Voldemort." The professor stared at her eyes. "There is an inside person working with us and alongside Voldemort."  
The stunned expression of Hermione followed with an audible jolt.  
"I am the only person aware of this transaction and now so are you. If you so wish it to be."  
The silence that succeed was filled with the crackles from the fireplace and with the shake of the Phoenix at its perch. Hermione's mind was running for miles. So there was an inside man, an informer… how exactly that piece of information would impact everything she knew about regards the resistance, she couldn't tell. Hermione couldn't make herself to understand why the professor hasn't shared with the other members of the Order about this person before? And why, why reveal it – of all people – to Hermione?  
"I-I don't understand, professor." Hermione decided to be honest. There was so much she'd like to ask but at the moment what bothered her the most was why the professor thought it to be wise to inform her about this. "Why me?"  
"It's simple, actually. There is nothing more impressive than intelligence and conviction combined. And you, Miss Granger, is the best choice for this relation to grow… and to be maintained."  
Nothing more collusive than a double compliment followed by a sentence, Hermione thought – still in conflict about what to do.  
"I need you to be her confidant."  
"Her?"  
The professor merely nodded his head as if the act should answer all her doubts. The enigmatic way the old headmaster usually portrays himself was something Hermione was used with, yet that didn't mean that the lack of explanations didn't bother her.  
"If you accept, the first meeting shall be at the Big Ben tower."   
Hermione shook her head negatively, she was now pacing through the office. She needed to be moving, her anxious mind was traveling fast with possibilities and questionings. "It's closed for reforms and they don't even open to the public."  
"For you, they will, Miss Granger." The professor smiled behind his beard and Hermione stopped on her tracks.  
Hermione weighted her options whilst the professor went back to stare at the night. If she accepted, she would have access to information that could help, perhaps, prevent attacks – if she were to be able to manage whatever she received -, it would still be a great source to the Order for them be able to architect defenses and… the Order. How would she appear with these amount of information and make them believe her? That was another issue. All of this seemed doomed to failure in her hands. Hermione wasn't totally convinced about Dumbledore's reason to choose her. There was something else… but what could it be?  
Hermione couldn't deny she was curious to know who was the person behind this. This ought to be the most insane and incredible thing to ever happen – which also could probably describe whoever was playing the inside man. Woman, in this case.  
Yet… if Hermione refused the request, she was sure the professor would not let her out of this room so easily.  
So the answer was obvious.  
"Then shall you go now, Miss Granger, this person, in particular, is not a big fan of delays. Take this with you." He handed her the small bundle she had seen a couple minutes ago. "Please, do not open it. Use this as a last option. Good luck."  
Hermione nodded, still unsure about everything.  
"One last thing, Miss Granger." The professor called her and Hermione glanced at him by the open door. "Go wandless."  
°º°  
A half hour later, Hermione faced the sumptuous building in front of her. Running her hands over her arms, in a failed attempt to warm herself from the cold night, Hermione followed in the direction of the tower as if invisible to the few guards she found on the way. She couldn't help to notice the misty eyes that wandered through her as she got close to the door. Nervously, she closed the door behind her and took a deep breath, trying to stabilize herself before climbing the spiral staircase.   
Hermione took her time, placing each foot carefully on the ladders, trying not to make any noise – which was something next to impossible for how old it was -, and as close as she got to the top, the creaking below her shoes only increase. She sighed, shaking her head. Whoever was upstairs should be worth to the point of risking herself this much. Or at least, she hoped the information the stranger shared with her – this was her being confident – was also worth it.  
"Well, finally. Here I was thinking your mind had finally given in, your old goat." The mocking voice greeted her.  
She froze. Her knuckles grasping the handrail became whitened with the pressure to keep herself standing. Her mind swirled.  
No, no… Dumbledore, he… could not have been mistaken. He has sent her here. Something was extremely wrong and turn back now wouldn't be prudent, or even viable.  
Then she waited a few more seconds, her mind could be tricking her.  
"Who's there?", The voice returned and Hermione shrank, eyes closed. "Show yourself!"  
Hermione opened her eyes and took one last breath. A long one, in hope to get courage enough to climb the last steps.  
One, two, three… just as she had imagined. There she was, indeed. Standing against the remnants of the moonlight from the cracks of the wall was Bellatrix Lestrange in all her glory. The half-shut eyes were a contrast against Hermione's wide ones – still trying to adjust it in the almost pitch dark room. Those dark brown eyes faced her in a mix of indecipherable feelings, her physical hardness didn't slip from Hermione's perception, either the absence of her fearful bent wand.  
She blinked, and it was the amount of time required for when she opened her eyes, she felt the sharp tip of what she supposed to be a knife against her neck and the sudden weight of the older woman behind her back. Her knees protested and she was pulled back, this time the reminiscences of light were flicking into her.  
"Give me one good reason to not kill you right now." The hissed voice permeated through her ear along with Bellatrix's hot breath who was holding her tight.  
She wanted to scream, to rebel herself but deep down in her conscious, she knew it would be just a waste of energy. Bellatrix's combat skills have proven to be beyond anything superfluous Hermione knew. She gulped. And with the pressure of the knife against her throat, her mind geared and she mumbled something unrecognizable even for her own ears.  
"Louder!"  
"… L-lemon drops-" Hermione whispered, feeling the hot tears spreading through her cheeks, her lips were trembling.  
And then she felt the air returning to her lungs and the loose around her body. She crouched and started coughing, the pressure in the room was suffocating. Turning back, she found Bellatrix facing her with something which she could identify as curiosity… or perhaps it was just scorn. She couldn't tell. Her whole body was still shaken and as she traveled her fingers around her neck she noticed the ornate dagger around Bellatrix fingers. She winced.  
"Care to tell me what you're doing here?"   
Not even the polite request could disguise the poison in every spoken word. Hermione was somehow impressed with the ability to shift attitude so quickly of the woman in front of her. The question woke her from her traveling mind and slowly she recomposed herself.  
"P-professor Dumbledore, he… he had a… uh, he-", apparently those were a bad choice of words if Bellatrix face was any proof of that, but she quickly added: "He sent me here because he trusts me, Be-", she stopped, unsure of how to address the woman. She gulped, everything was already going wrong. "I mean, Madam Lestrange."  
Her heart was still hammering against her ribcage and the pressure of the other woman's eyes was so heavy, it felt as if it was ripping her apart  
Bellatrix sighed, waving her hand as if dismissing her. "It's Black."  
"…uh?"  
"Black. I've never changed my name."  
Hermione blinked. A second ago she was sure to be sent to the world of the dead and now… now she was having a sort of a civilized conversation with no one else than one of the most notorious death eater Bellatrix… Black. The same woman who had killed her friend's parents and injured so many others… and she was the woman behind Lord Voldemort's resistance at the same time she played alongside him… this ought to be the cruelest of the jokes. Nothing of this made any sense.  
"You are on our side?" Her curiosity was bigger than her notion of fear. "But how's that even-"  
"-Everything's possible, girl. You just have to know whom to trust." Bellatrix winked at her.  
Bellatrix Black was a spy, working with Dumbledore and against Lord Voldemort. She wanted to laugh, yet she knew it would be the last thing she'd do. It was so much information to be comprehended in such a short time. The innumerable possibilities this could put on the table was running on her mind at full blast.  
"And right now I don't trust you."  
Hermione raised her eyes at the source of the sound. Now it would be the persuasive point, Dumbledore had mentioned. Hermione should become the channel between Bellatrix and Hermione, however… how could she bring the older woman to trust her? She looked around, without access to magic, the only way would be through the item the professor had given to her and Hermione wasn't sure about how receptive the witch would be about that. Groping her pockets, Hermione was searching for where had she kept it.  
"What the hell you thinking you're doing?" Bellatrix asked angrily and Hermione stopped on her tracks.  
"I-I can show you s-something."  
Bellatrix made an effort not to roll her eyes and got hold of the girl's wrist. "Clarify."  
Hermione froze at the proximity and the warm touch around her wrist, it was the second time in that night she had been close to Bellatrix, but it was the first time that Hermione had the chance to really look at the so fearful and mysterious woman in front of her. Even under the flickering light at the sultry room, Hermione could notice the stark contrast from the reddish lips to the pale skin, enveloped in dark wild curls which were so deep it blended with the room. There was something enticing between this compound of colors and bone structure that for the third time in a short space of time, made Hermione gasp for air.   
She blinked nervously, in hope to cease the bump of blood through her cheeks.  
"Dumbledore, he… gave me something. He said I should show you, to prove my reliance."   
Her glittering eyes focused on each of the dark orbs that observed her carefully. She then felt Bellatrix's hand slipping under her jeans pocket, she gulped when the stranger's fingers went further, grabbing the small bundle on her back. Still not letting go of Hermione's wrist, Bellatrix opened it and her eyes went wide. Not able to resist the urge to know the reason for such expression, Hermione saw a ring ornate with a peculiar shape. It was just something else to add to the list of things Hermione still didn't understand. Nothing of this made any sense at all.  
Yet she noticed that Bellatrix had closed her eyelids as if pondering her next words. Whatever it was, Hermione sure was not prepared for that: "What do you know about Horcruxes?"  
After that night, their subsequent encounters became sparse and even more furtive. Sometimes Hermione not even had the chance to see her, just words whispered in the dead of the night. However, letters were not allowed. "No evidence.", Bellatrix warned her at the second meeting, whilst she dictated the rules to be followed. Their meetings would only be done after dusk and only between them. If Bellatrix suspected the presence of someone else, she left clear how good was hair aim and her ability to cause damage in hand-to-hand combat was, if the bump on Hermione's forehead was any proof of that. Yet the oddest request was the third: no wands.  
"Why's that?" Hermione asked, pressing her hand against her forehead. Trying her best to control her tongue between her teeth to not curse the old woman.  
"Protection. Yours mostly."  
"But what if I brought a muggle weapon?" That last sentence was supposed to stick on her mind only, but Bellatrix's left eyebrow rose and she smirked.  
"I'm pretty good with guns too, don't try me." Hermione shivered, she had no doubt about the older witch skills. "Now, lower your hand."  
"Eh?"  
"Your hand, Granger." Bellatrix slapped her hand away, emphasizing the order, and pressing an amount of snow on Hermione's forehead.  
Hermione hissed at the contact but thought better than to say anything. She didn't actually found anything near coherent to explain any of that, because it still felt rather surreal. Almost if too good to be true. Hermione felt as if she was falling in a trap. It didn't seem right and yet… yet here she was, in some mundane region of muggle London, being shield by Bellatrix herself with her overcoat against the sharp winter wind, having their features lightened by the colorful motel sign.  
Could this be the personification of the word bizarre?  
"So, listen-", Bellatrix whispered voice stopped her train of thought. "There's going to be an attack. Soon." She glanced both ways of the alley again. "And there's nothing you can do to stop it. It has to happen."  
Hermione frowned. "Then why are you telling me this?"  
Bellatrix snorted in annoyance for Hermione's slow process of understanding.  
"After that happens there will be a new Minister of Magic. A new puppet, if you may. Because we all know the reason why they exist, don't we, dear?" Bellatrix ignored her question and winked at Hermione, whilst placing a lock of Hermione's light brown hair behind her ear.  
Barely knowing how to react, the young witch shook her head negatively.  
"To divert attention from the real power."  
"Lord Vol-"  
"-Shh, don't say his name!" Bellatrix exclaimed with so much ferocity that made Hermione retract furthermore against the brick wall. "It's cursed. You say it, there'll be a death eater right behind you. Stick with the nicknames, dear."  
From that night on  
Hermione recollects that old conversation, so long ago with professor Dumbledore whilst making her way through Hogwarts' chaotic wreckages. She spots some familiar faces and with a grip on her heart, she also sees the ones who didn't make it. But it feels like a punch on her guts when she sees dark curly hair swayed by the wind. There, sitting among the remnants of the Quidditch arena is Bellatrix Black – who could also say to be responsible for the current state of the place. But so could she.  
Even after all the innumerous furtive encounters, the dubious whisperers and the disguised attack in Malfoy Manor, Hermione still finds it hard to believe that woman who carries several tenebrous titles on her back was, all this time, fighting against everything she swore to be proud of. Through Hermione's eyes, Bellatrix Black was the purest personification of the word courage. Slytherin, Gryffindor… nothing of that mattered, in the end, the one who destroyed the source of such evil that racked them came in the shape of a woman.  
Bellatrix had just made it into history, in such an extraordinary turnaround, revealing that things rarely are what they appear and blind trust is the right answer for defeat.  
The young witch approaches slowly yet Bellatrix does not even divert her eyes. The only sound comes from the wind blended within the noise from the castle behind them. There are no birds, crickets or even frogs. Just the occasional pitched noise of something falling down. And that is how they stay for a long moment, just contemplating the opposite landscape. Lost on their own thoughts.  
"Spill it, Granger."  
The husky voice startles Hermione who pushes a small rock with the tip of her shoe in response, still deciding the right words to use. But if Hermione had learned anything through all the time spent together with the dark-haired witch it was the economy of words and to be straight with her requests.   
"I was wondering… you know, now that all of this is over."  
It felt very condescending to affirm that, the clock hasn't even finished a quart of its course since the fall of Lord Voldemort. She felt uncertain as if the premise of a resumption of all that chaos could be restored at any moment. Those freshly hours of calmness were still rather unreal. After several getaways, betrayal, tears and distress, after had survived through all of that the feeling of being free had become frightful.  
Hermione shivered at her thoughts and pushed it to the back of her mind. It was not the ideal moment to discuss that.  
Bellatrix replicates the action and pushes the small rock back with the tip of her wand – as if ordering her to finish the sentence.  
"… What are you going to do? Now, I mean."  
And this time she faces the rough expression on the other woman's face, covered with dirty, she notices the knots around the messy curly hair, the slightly open lips; she also notices her forehead lightly frowned and the tired shrug. Hermione sees her, and she knows her answer even before Bellatrix vocalize it. However, that does not scare her. There is something reliable in these closed dark eyes, in her posture that independent of whichever the words she says Hermione knows that all of this is real.  
Bellatrix is real. She is real. The war is over, even if it does not feel like it, yet. But there is something so homogeneous and genuine by just looking at the witch in front of her that makes her feel… solid. Valid.  
"There's plenty to do."  
"L-like what?"  
Bellatrix shakes her head as if pondering her answer. In fact, there is plenty to do. The consequences of this resolution are visible to any direction one might look at. The personal life and juridic details of the witch were something which Hermione was sure Bellatrix was not looking forward to deal with. So many years living undercover, being titled responsible for innumerous crimes had its perks. And they weren't pretty. That definitely was not the life a young Bellatrix had planned to herself. Actually, nothing of what she really wanted had concretized.  
She only had herself, with a big hole on the chest – that usually could be ignored after one and more bottles.  
Until Hermione came along - but that was not another topic she was not wishing to deal with too.  
"What's your deal, Granger? I can feel your little head burning with something, so spill it out."  
She could feel Bellatrix eyes on her and her throat went dry. The last time those fascinating orbs had stared on her, were right after the fall of Voldemort.  
She had seen it all.  
She had seen her friend stand tall, wand aimed, focused. But she had also seen the third blast of light, which was not from Harry's wand.  
It was all so recent, she could still taste blood on her mouth. It was hard to disconnect from all that euphoria when everything was still so fresh.  
But she blinks, trying to maintain her emotions on control. She needed to be brave. Quickly looking at the pink clouds, the dawn was upon them, she finds strength.  
"I'm leaving," Hermione says, still gazing at the sky. "I need to find my parents."  
Bellatrix nods, already familiar with the fact. Still, she clenches her jaw. "I see…"  
"And I thought that maybe… maybe you'd like to come with me." Light brown eyes meet dark ones. "Would you?"  
But Bellatrix nothing says.  
And the seconds turn into minutes and the pressure is agonizing. She deviates her eyes to the rising Sun, with its light fighting for space at the remnant of the night. She blinks away the stream of tears that fight to slip from her eyes, out of frustration.  
Where her head was whilst asking Bellatrix such thing? It was obvious she would rather deal with her on business and had other important matters to deal with.  
Yet… there was a selfish part of her that screamed for the other witch's company. Why exactly Hermione couldn't tell, but she felt the need, almost as exhilarating, in to be close to her.  
It was irrational.  
And painful, just was the absence of a reply. Hermione wished she had not said anything, she could take the words back and when she was about to undo the damage, she inhales the unique smell that could only belong to someone in particular.  
She feels the brush of fingers against her wrist and the hammering of her heart.  
"Yes, I would."  
And was they intertwine their fingers, Hermione can't help but think about how this was the sequel of their own odyssey.  
So they travel to Australia and Hermione's fascinated by everything. The change of scenario and weather are astonishing. Never had she seen the Sun bright that much throughout all day long – it felt as if the heating never ceased, not even at night.  
But nothing was more surprised then seeing Bellatrix driving.  
"What's this?"  
"It's a Bentley. Not idea of the year, but this beauty can run. Get in."  
"You can drive?" Hermione asked blatantly, putting she seat belt on.  
"I can do lots of things, dear." She blinked, but thankfully to Hermione she didn't see her cheeks turning pink, as she started the car and drive it away from the rent car store.  
They traveled up and down and slept at so many hotel rooms that Hermione had forgotten her count at the seventh. Throughout their investigation some leads they were able to gather only guided to dead ends. Hermione's frustration was making itself visible until Bellatrix suggested a break.  
Hermione went mad.   
"We can't just stop, Bella-" She had started calling her that way since the day they were in a restaurant and one very smug man asked for her sister's cell phone number, whilst Bellatrix was closing the bill  
"Actually, I don't think my girlfriend of there would like that." She replied annoyed until Bellatrix arrived at the table with a slightly eyebrow arched. The man bowed nervously and Hermione had enough of it. "Can we go now? I'm tired, honey." She blinked at Bellatrix's surprised face and kissed her on the lips. It was just a peck on the lips, but Bellatrix might have caught it all.  
"Sure, dear." She interlaced her fingers with Hemione's and took noticed of the man standing still there. She whispered something on the man's ears and smiled.  
As they left the establishment, Hermione turned her neck and saw the man starting to strip from its clothes to the horror of everyone else.  
"God, what did you do?"  
Bellatrix smirked and opened the door car for her. "A little thing I used to do with Rodolphus when I was bored."   
"-what if they are hurt… or worse?"  
Bellatrix went silent and closed the gap between them. "They aren't."  
"How could you know? Every time we find something about their whereabouts they're gone already. What if they got them?" She whispered the last part because even with she was being reasonable with herself there was the probability of her parents being dead for a long time already.  
"I know it because you did a good job, that's why they're running opposite to us. So, we gotta play smart."  
"Tell me what you know." Hermione demanded, because she had learned to read the proud tone of the other woman's voice quite easily now.  
"I will, after you come with me."  
Hermione arched an eyebrow but she couldn't deny her curiosity. "Where you're taking me?"  
"Aren't you that curious, eh?" Bellatrix joked and nodded. "Come."  
And she did because it had been a while already since she noticed she couldn't deny the other woman's request. She was not sure how to feel about that but one thing for sure she was not scared. She trusted Bellatrix. Why exactly she had her doubts but nothing concrete, but it feels good being around her.   
Bellatrix could be lots of things but she was nothing if not loyal, and she had proved that way too many times during their time together.  
They had been down this road for almost two years now, half and more of those spent in Australia, looking for her muggle parents and being reported about the changes at the wizarding world back in London. It turned out, Bellatrix had her ways everywhere, and here, on the other side of the globe was not different.  
But Hermione couldn't help to think that this might be a way for Bellatrix to escape the mess of her own life and she feels guilty about because the older woman has lost so much but still there she was, right beside Hermione, in this hellish yet beautiful place, trying to track down her parents. Sleeping in different hotel rooms and learning a new culture and getting to know Bellatrix better. In a way or another, either she finds or not the reason for her search, she was somehow glad for the company. And would be forever thankful.  
"What's this?" Hermione asked surprised at the scene.  
"…uh, happy birthday?" Bellatrix replied. "I've never done something like this before, and I know you said you didn't want anything, but-"  
"-I love this." Hermione smiled and got closer of the rambling woman. It would always be amusing to see her lose composure for a second – something Hermione would never say it out loud. "You didn't have to, but thank you so much!"  
She smiled and hugged the dark-haired witch and it took a moment for her to return the embrace, but she eventually did.  
Hermione inhaled the woman's perfume and couldn't help the smile against Bellatrix chest. She had completely forgotten her own birthday, being so caught up on the search of her parents.  
They were on the beach, around a fire pit and some blankets and she could peak some drinks too and honestly… she never felt this appreciate before.   
They had been on the road for so long, even before going to Australia, that this piece of normalcy – even being a cliché, as Bellatrix whispered on her ear, laughing – was welcomed. She had missed this sensation of fondness for so long, so she did not let her timidity took the best of her and pressed her lips upon Bellatrix's.  
And they moved, and fought for space and dominance, they held each other and traveled their hands with barriers, locked tongues and shared light moans and that was the best birthday gift she had ever received.  
They stopped, eventually, to catch their breaths and Hermione – still being held by Bellatrix – asked: "What's this?" The interrogation face was her response. "I mean, can we keep doing it?"  
Bellatrix laughed, because it was such an idiotic question, specially coming from Hermione, of all people. And Hermione laughed too because it had been a long time since she felt this carefree. And it was good.  
"You see that cottage over there?"   
Hermione stared at where she was pointing out and nodded. "Yeah, what about it?"  
"Would you mind going there to take our food? I asked them to use the oven." Hermione blinked. "Don't laugh. I told you I can do lots of things." She did tell her that, but still, Hermione suppressed a laugh. "Go there while I keep this thing… burning." She smiled maliciously and kissed her. "Wait, wait… give them this first." She took off her necklace and pressed on Hermione's hand. "Make both of them touch it."  
"Why?" Hermione asked confused.  
"Just… let me say this is payment." Hermione snorted but nodded.  
Apparently, Hermione had found a successor to Dumbledore's enigmatic behavior. And she sure did like this version better.  
She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and knocked at the door, daring a glance to where Bellatrix was. How did she end up here? She was not complaining, but of all the places Hermione envisioned for her future, traveling alongside Bellatrix on another continent was not one of them.  
"How may I help you, dear?"  
The color of Hermione's face disappeared. She turned around and couldn't believe what her eyes were showing her.   
"Oh, you must be the girl. Come on in." The woman invited her inside and Hermione just followed, her mouth gaping.  
The cottage was rather larger than its outdoor view gave in, but she didn't pay attention to any of that. She just stared at the short-haired woman guiding her to the kitchen where she saw another familiar face.  
"Are you all right, dear? You seem a little pale." The woman placed her hand on Hermione's forehead to feel her temper and Hermione suppressed the tears, she smiled nodding her head.  
"I'm good, I'm just… hungry, I guess."  
The woman smiled and the man at the table observed them in silence, going back to whatever he was doing with that screwdriver.  
"Well, have a sit, I just have to check on it again upstairs because Wendell over there decided he would fix my oven." She raised her hands up in the air. "Men."  
Hermione laughed because that was the sort of thing her father would do and he replied something and asked Hermione to take a look at it.  
"Honestly?" She tried to maintain the conversation. "I think something's missing right here." She pointed out.  
Her father nodded and scratched his head. "I think I lost it, Jean's gonna kill me."  
Hermione felt sorry for him but then remembered the necklace.   
"What if we put this-" she showed him the jewelry, "in there?"  
He gave it a look and Hermione handed it to him expectedly, but nothing happened.  
"Oh, dear God, Wendell. What did you do this time?"  
Hermione saw the uncertainty written all over her father's face, she had her share of caught him in numerous situations like this before. It was always funny, if not embarrassed.  
"Ok, now Jean, what about some tea so we can talk about it, eh?"  
Hermione had the decency to look at the other way whilst her father tried to reason with her mother, who was very annoyed.  
And something clicked on Hermione's mind.  
"I'm sorry to interrupt", Hermione stated, having their attention. "But I think that, perhaps, you'd like to give something to your wife to… I don't know, lessen your case?" Hermione proposed. The most stupid of the plans, she sure would make Ron's proud. "I mean, the necklace, you ah-, what if I gave it to you and then I can invite you both to have dinner with us?"   
Every word she spoke made her brain shrink, even more, she was wincing inside, because that's was all very pathetic, but she was desperate.   
To her exasperation, her mother accepts it, and when her father handed it to her it was as if they finally woke up. They both blinked a couple of times, still looking at the necklace and them noticed Hermione presence and tears and hugs were shared. She lost the notion of time while still not letting go of her parents, trying to retain all details and adventures and well, congested too.  
Until a knock on the door was heard and Hermione woke up from that enchantment, excusing herself to open the door, facing a hand raised Bellatrix. She didn't even give time to hear the woman's reply, she just throws herself into her and hugged her to her dear life. "Thank you so much, Bella!" She whispered at the witch ear and kissed her cheek. "I can't believe you found them!" She now faced the dark-haired woman with a huge grin on her face.  
"… Surprise?"  
Hermione laughed and pushed her inside. "Come on in, let me introduce you to my parents."  
"Uh, Hermione, I don't think that's a good idea."  
"What?" Hermione asked her, stopping at the hallway, she noticed the uneasy expression oh the witch's face. "Are you nervous?" She teased and Bellatrix showed her the middle finger. Always the childish one. "C'mon."  
And they spent the night together, chatting and laughing at Hermione's expense, had dinner and Hermione had never felt that happy before.  
Sitting here in a kitchen with her parents and Bellatrix, talking about anything and family stuff at the same time was even more for what she had asked for.  
The war was finally over, she thought while sipping her drink and watching Bellatrix and her father trying to fix the broken oven. To her parents surprised she was able to fix it and Hermione was even more amazed by the woman's knowledge about… everything, apparently. She wonders where had she even learn all those things. Perhaps, a question for another time.   
"Oh, look at the time!" Her mother Jean screamed. "No reason I'm so tired. I'm off to bed. Goodnight, sweetie." She kissed Hermione's forehead. "Good night, Miss Black. We have extra space in the other room with you've changed your mind about it." Her mother had offered Bellatrix to sleep at the cottage but she denied. Hermione was curious about that.  
Her parents said their goodbyes and then was just then, sitting at the table sipping their drinks.  
"Why won't sleep here? Where you're going?"  
Bellatrix finished the red liquid on her cup and took a minute to reply.  
"I got stuff to do, Hermione. You know it."  
Hermione shrugged. She knew about Bellatrix unfinished business but she never thought she would go away right after she finds her parents. Had she been imagining things that weren't there?  
"Still, it's late." She tried to reason. "Could you please stay and sleep with me?" She asked in a blow of air, in a last minute of courage and stared at the cups upon the table.  
There wasn't a verbal response but Bellatrix got up and Hermione saw her standing at the doorway.  
Hermione smiled and guided her to the bedroom.   
It was very simple and the ajar windows let the wind pass through without resistance. She didn't even turn the lights on, just climbed up the bed and saw Bellatrix waiting a moment before doing the same.  
This wasn't the first time she shared a bed with Bellatrix, but this would be the first time after their kiss. Throughout their journey, they had been sharing duties over each other protection during the night and Bellatrix was always the one to keep vigilance through the night and Hermione snapped suddenly at the thought.  
"How come I've never seen you sleep?"  
"What kind of bullshit is that?"  
"Bella, I've never seen you sleep! Fall asleep, I mean."  
Bellatrix sighed. "Of all the weird conversations we ever had this one wins the trophy."  
But Hermione ignored the insult or haven't even acknowledged it, and crossed her arms upon herself. "That's it, I'm watching you sleep."  
"…eh, what?"  
Hermione closed the curtains, climbed up the bed again and patted the cushion as if Bellatrix would get a hint.  
She did, and snorted to it.  
"I ain't falling for that."  
"Bella," this time the young witch stared back into the dark eyes with all the strength of only someone this devoted could demonstrate. "don't you trust me?"  
"That's not what I'm-"  
"- Then come to bed. Please."  
Bellatrix suppressed a sigh and a roll of eyes. She would be lying, not only to herself, if she said a part of her was not scared to close her eyes. Because she was. She could still picture it very clear, every time she lets herself go for a minute, the rushed voices and the running shadows – so fast – going in her direction. Every damn time she is the target. But what enrages her the most is that she's never able to protect herself… to protect her sisters.  
And they always end up being taken or killed right in front of her. And she's forced to watch through it all because her useless body does not even flinch. Just her sordid tears.  
So she lets herself fall beside Hermione if only to keep her calm or give the false sensation of control – but she won't fall asleep.  
Ever since Hermione came into her life things, in the slight, started changing, she hadn't noticed at first and it took her a great time to accept that the young witch wasn't going anywhere – for more annoying could that be at first -, but Hermione never went away. And neither had she.  
She couldn't tell exactly when this commitment had started, but here they were living together. They haven't put a label on it or even had an honest conversation about it – something which Bellatrix was internally grateful - but she couldn't deny that whatever this was, what they were… the feeling was mutual.  
And that scared her the most.  
Because she's not used to feeling so out of control of herself. She's not used in have to worry about someone else's safety, but she does, for Hermione. Ever since that dire night at Malfoy Manor, something had triggered her and it had left a deep cut in herself somewhere the line.  
After her eyes had laid on Hermione's, she knew one of them wasn't going to get out alive out there. And she had never thought so highly of someone else's safety before then that night. So she did what she had to do. because Hermione had a job to do and Bellatrix had done what she could and that would be the last straw.  
But it turned out it was not the day for Bellatrix to go join the dead, and as she threw her dagger, she gave them the answer for their search and sealed her on faith.  
She had chosen a side.  
And when they grabbed her she didn't fight back. She let herself be pushed and throw to the floor as the Dark Lord arrived. She felt every punch, every curse, and every insult but it didn't affect her, because her job was done and she couldn't care less. She had failed to her sisters a long time ago, but Hermione had given her an opportunity to redeem herself somehow. She wasn't looking for a resolution, she wasn't even sure what exactly she was looking for but for a brief moment in her life, Hermione had offered that and it had been enough.  
Unfortunately, Voldemort thought different.  
"One would think I should be furious, yet I'm actually impressed. You never ceased to amaze me Bellatrix, no even after your betrayal." Voldemort's voice filled the huge room alongside his steps around the witch – who was still trying to take her breath, her back was killing her but she didn't give them any satisfaction. She wouldn't.  
"However, death's just too easy for you." Upon hearing the unimpressed commotion between the death eaters, Voldemort raised his hand. "This shall mean you must kill the one who fled. With your bare hands."  
And then they started laughing, celebrating the double meaning behind the words, for once they would be headed to the final battle and it was clear the animosity in the room was getting deep.  
But they all stopped once hearing her laughing.  
She couldn't take it anymore. Her cracks became louder and Voldemort's snake-ish eyes excruciated her. Wand pointed, he ordered the reason of such display turning the attention for the woman on the floor. All eyes were on her.  
She smirked and faced the man in front of her – if she could still call him that.  
"And what makes you think I would do such a thing… Tom?" Her deviated grin only grew with the astonished expression on Voldemort's face.  
He didn't let the rumbled voice makes its form before snapping at the witch. "Crucius!, Crucius!"  
The pain was excruciating, she could feel it in every inch of her body, she tried to maintain herself silent but the third made its perks and it was reverberant. She never heard that spell before but it felt as if her brain was melting and her eyes burned with every second.  
"This is what you're going to do, Bella. You're going to meet one last time with Miss Granger. You're going to guide us towards the boy and you are going to kill her with your own hands, you're going to open her up and drink the blood because you are as dirty as her and shall be gone by the hands of each one of the people present here. They are going to do whatever they desire… and you shall watch they do the same with the girl."  
She flinched, the spells had stopped but she still felt tipsy but upon hearing Hermione's name it as if she was sobering up.  
"It's a shame, Bellatrix. I had great plans for you. You could've been the one to bring the new horizon… right behind me."  
She chuckled and spilled some blood out of her mouth. "I've never been good at staying on the bottom, Tom. You know it." She winked and it was the last thing she did before the spells hit her again… and then there were arms everywhere and she couldn't move. She was trapped somehow, and by the corner of her eye, she saw the silhouette of her sister being rushed out of the room and her chest tightened. She was suffocating. Something, someone was all over her and she couldn't breathe…she gasped for air but nothing filled her lungs besides panic. She sensed she was about to collapse and she couldn't let that happen. She just couldn't.  
And out of nowhere Hermione's voice – screams – filled her ears and desperation engulfed her.   
It was rather automatic – one could say it was a muscular memory – but didn't flinched while punched whatever it was on top of her.  
She did it once, twice and a third one... in and out, fourth time and a fifth, hitting it in and out… in and out.  
And every time she pushed her hands towards Hermione's screams only got louder and she couldn't understand anything. Hadn't she left? Did someone grab her?  
The sticky hot liquid splashed on her hand and she snapped her eyes right open. She sobbed at the vision.  
There was Hermione below her on their bed with a pained expression. She blinked fast and as she was lowering her head, Hermione's hand stopped her, grabbing her face. "Don't. It's n-not your fault." She begged, there were tears all over her face.  
Bellatrix couldn't understand.  
Until she sees the blood in the corner of her eye that she moves and all she can see is red. Hermione's lower body was soaked wet with blood. Bellatrix's rushed her hands only to stop half way of it when she faces her own hands.  
It was all red.  
But what she scared her the most was the dagger she was holding.  
"Bella, no-"  
But she didn't listen. She throws it away with all the might she could and pressed her trembling her hands upon Hermione. But there was so much blood.  
"No! No, no, no!-"  
"-Be-"  
"No! Don't do this on me-" The tears blurred her eyes and she felt Hermione shivering.  
"-Bella!" The exclaimed voice became louder.   
"I-I-I'm sorr-"  
"Bella, it's me, wake up! Please, wake up!"  
It was if she was being pulled out of a cold bath, she felt her whole body shivering and the cold was excruciating.  
"Bella, it's me! You're safe, it's me Hermione." The sweet voice filled her ears, dissipating the buzzing on her ears slowly, while hands were up and down on her back and arms. "You are safe... you are home."  
She sighed, still no opening her eyes. What kind of fucked up nightmare was that? She was afraid that if she opened her eyes she would see Hermione's limp body beside her and if she did so then Voldemort would have won.  
But someone was calling her name and it was getting hard to keep herself breathing without knowing for sure. She had to.  
She might have failed her sisters years ago but she had made a promise to herself to not let anyone fall anymore.  
The room was still spinning around her but when her eyes opened she was met with Hermione's light brown eyes written with worry. She smiled at her and kissed her face. But she couldn't bring herself to deviate her eyes from the concerned face and the dulcet voice making questions that she hasn't acknowledged it.  
"Do you feel all right? You scared me a little there, Bella." She pushed away a straw of dark hair out of her face and Bellatrix started noticed her surroundings. The only source of light was from the bedside lamp, yet she still feels cold.  
"You think you can get up?" Hermione asked gently and perhaps she might let it show because Hermione seemed to understand the reason why she couldn't move.  
She brought her lips once again to Bellatrix's face and it was as if warmth started to spread throughout her body.  
"I'm going to grab your hand, all right?... Can you feel it?" She blinked because she could feel a vague touch on her left hand. She interlaced their fingers together and kissed her knuckles, letting Bellatrix see.  
"Now I'm going to put your hand on my belly, no, it's all right." She reassured her because she sensed the stress inflicting through Bellatrix's eyes. "I'm placing my hand too… here, can you feel it?"  
Hermione asked and Bellatrix gasped because she could. She could feel the control over her body again. She could sense the softness of the bedsheets on her back, the chilly weather on the bedroom… she could smell Hermione's strong perfume and that pacified the hammering on her chest. But what she could feel the most were the strong kicks on Hermione's voluminous stomach.  
She swallowed hard.  
"… Fuck."  
Hermione pat her arm lightly but smiled: "Language, would you? She could hear."  
"Yeah, I very doubt that."  
"She can!" Hermione replied. "And you know what she'd love to hear? If her mum's feeling better."  
Bellatrix sighed and tried to move her hand away but Hermione didn't let her. "It was the same dream, wasn't it?"  
"… It's getting worse."  
"Is it because of the date?"  
"…Probably. Dunno."  
Hermione didn't reply but stare at the woman beside her. They had been through a lot ever since the day they met and even now the consequences were still prevailing – not all of them were positives.  
"Have you considered what I told you?"  
"Hermione, I'm not going to a fucking shrink! Muggle or not, I won't."  
"Then how do you think we are going to raise a child and the both of us keep avoiding each other?"  
"Please, look- don't start this again."  
"How couldn't I? My due date is near, and your episodes are getting worse-"  
"I fucking know it, Hermione! Don't you think I know? I live that every goddamn night! And that's emptying me out… I feel like every time I close my eyes a piece of me is destroyed… and you know what's worse?"  
Hermione nodded her head negatively.  
"He wins every time. Every fucking time, Hermione." She closes her eyes and lowers her head a little. "And I can never fight back and I always ended up losing you…"  
"So yeah, I fucking know it." She leaves the bed because she can face the young woman anymore, the pressure in the bedroom is overwhelming and she needs air.  
She stumbles through the kitchen door in the dark, groping her hands looking for her keys until she finally opens the door and the cold air fills her lungs and she lets out an almost inaudible sob.  
She bends over her knees and screams against her closed hands but they're shaking so much that the keys fall on the grass and so she falls too, because the feeling is so heavy, it is like a thousand anvils are being thrown all over her.  
She didn't mean to snap on Hermione, the last thing she wanted was to put her on stress.   
But she was so tired.  
So very tired.  
She acknowledges Hermione need to help her but she can't bring herself to let her in because she is scared how would she react if she really saw who Bellatrix truly was. But she never told her, they just kept living their lives, building a home after the war, and ignoring the smalls hints of their past on the front door.  
But it's been almost fifteen years and now she couldn't deny it anymore. Fuck whoever said that ignorance is a bliss, she thought whilst getting on her feet. She was done of letting the ones she cared down. She wouldn't let her daughter feel the same.  
She takes one last breathe and spills it, as if she had been smoking and get back in her home.  
She finds Hermione sleeping on the couch with two hot cups of tea upon the coffee table. She grabs the sheet she decided to keep in the living room because Hermione was always complaining of feeling cold ever since they found out about the pregnancy and places it over her.  
She can't help but place her hand on the young witch's belly, and she is not disappointed when she feels the kicks against it.  
She smiles and decides it is about time to be the woman she's supposed to be, fucking prophecies, she chuckles to herself along the crackles from the fireplace.

**Author's Note:**

> Dawn, my love, I wish you the happiest of holidays and I hope this is slightly close for what you wanted as a gift. 
> 
> Hope y'all made your homework because the references are there. The title comes from the song "Loyal", by Paloma Faith.
> 
> All grammar mistakes are mine, thank you.


End file.
